19.1.11

I'm not one of those people who completely adores Marilyn Monroe because she was sassy and cute and all that sort of thing. And I will probably never understand why Gentleman Prefer Blondes was such a massive hit when the concluding moral seems to be 'Well, if you're gonna marry, why not marry into money?' and showering us with songs like Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend (which I much preferred both contextually and musically in Moulin Rouge!). Where as we trusty, dependable, square-jawed, Brill-creme lacquered men prefer the honest companion of a dog, those trixy femme fatales are out to fool us again with their wilds and convivial eccentricities disguised as domestic bliss. After all, men are men, and women are all money-grabbing harlots - ha HA! However one part I do love is when Marilyn Monroe spins this amazing line when donning a Duchess' tiara, 'Oh! I just adore finding new places to wear diamonds!' This seems to be the only line where the writers had their tongues in their cheeks and not hanging out at the sight of Marilyn's capacious cleavage.

But Some Like it Hot is one of my all time favourites. The script is just the best - everyone speaking really, really fast, seee? Constantly making witty comebacks with a nod of their trilby, seee? I like you kid, you remind me of me when I was younger! Well, whadyaknow??! I have a great love for films in which all the characters are basically caricatures of the writer and all speak in the same way. There is something unifying and stylish about that idea that I like a lot (like in Juno or any Woody Allen film). While not shying away from anything (and being fairly forward-thinking in view of the excessive cross-dressing and nods at homo-innuendo) it maintains a certain level of charm, sort of in that Bugsy Malone way, without letting itself tip over into cliché because of the wit and the playful sense of humour that runs throughout.

I freaking love it. Particularly Jack Lemmon, who is virtually insane as his female disguise, Daphne. There is nothing better to cheer your cockles on a cold winter night than the laughter of a cello-playing transvestite from the fifties. So sit back, relax and enjoy a couple of DAPHNE! moments and we can all pretend that we have gone south from the winter and are currently hiding out from Chicago mobsters on a beach with the head of Shell Oil - AND BRING YOUR YAUCHT!

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